Travel broadens the mind. It also greatly expands the number of photos stored on my computer. Despite the ability to delete digital photos and the camera’s ability to determine the location and date they were taken, I have way too many photos. There are many I’d be lucky to know which country I took them in, let alone any other details. It’s taken me some time to realise taking photos is more for my own pleasure and recollection than for others. Sure, my family enjoy seeing a few of them, but with the ability to post them on Facebook or Instagram, I can share them almost as soon as I take them. It’s when I look around my office that memories come flooding back. Here I pin up items that trigger special memories of my trips. Just a glance up from my computer shows me a print I bought in Dresden, Germany. While I don’t remember the exact name of the place it shows, what I do remember is an incredible day spent with my German pen pal and her husband, and their incredible generosity in showing me around this incredible city and even finding a cafe named Ayers Rock! To my left hangs a tea towel with Postbridge, Dartmoor on it. It first conjures up pictures of the beautiful Dartmoor ponies we saw that day, but also the faux pas of taking a photo of what I thought was an old stone clapper bridge. In fact, it was the old bridge I was standing on, and the photo I took was of a more modern one! To my right is a print I bought in New York City. Standing on the pavement as the artist created it using nothing more than some spray paint and a sharp stick, within 10 minutes I had a magnificent, unique image of the New York skyline. The picture of my friend and I in Banff, Canada, riding the gondola up to Sulphur Mountain, reminds me how I conquered my fear of heights enough to enjoy the stunning view of snowy mountains and the town below. While it’s unlikely I’ll stop taking photos, maybe it’s time to remember there are other ways to ensure I bring home all the wonderful memories of my travels. One day I might get to those photo books but, if not, c’est la vie.